


Beauty and the Boar

by kuro_captive



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017), Dream SMP (Fandom), Dream Team (Fandom), Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Beauty and the Beast Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Character Death, Dancing and Singing, Dream is fucking Gaston, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I'm a techno simp sorry yall, Kidnapping, M/M, Musical References, Other, Philza is mrs potts, Singing, Technoblade Brainrot, Tubbo is Chip, cant stop me now, cause im having a good time, idk this might be bad brain too full
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:55:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28604058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro_captive/pseuds/kuro_captive
Summary: Life is boring in L'Manberg, a small town in France. I woke up each morning, empty and longing for something more. Something more than going to fetch bread at the local market then continue to get bashed on as I walk towards the library to fill my mind with something other than how...boring my life was. To escape away to romances and fantasy. Though when my father disappears after heading out to the markets outside of town, promising to bring me back a rose, suddenly my life had meaning.An abandoned castle and foggy memories causes me to meet Technoblade, a king who sits on a broken throne. Can I fix him before he and the rest of his friends and family disappear forever? Can I heal his broken and empty heart before he drifts away? Do I even want to?
Relationships: Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF)/You, Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF) & You, Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)/You
Comments: 35
Kudos: 185





	Beauty and the Boar

**Author's Note:**

> I received a comment when promoting this- I think Technoblade has said he doesn't want to be shipped with friends because it makes him uncomfortable. As with x Reader ships, I don't know. This isn't meant to objectfy Techno or make him uncomfortable in any way. There will be no sexual content nor much...touchy romance stuff? Simply fluff and romantic gestures- just like on the movie they'll likely only kiss at the end. This is a story meant for angst, romance, and action- just like the movie. It's using more of the fictional persona Technoblade had created for the DreamSMP than him or his usual persona. I've tried adding my own twist to him as well, so hopefully it'll be as little like the real life Techno as possible. I don't wish to make him uncomfortable, he's my comfort streamer and I respect him through and through. This is simply literature with a spice of romance simply so I can write Techno being a cool king healing from his past trauma and pain and have people ACTUALLY wanna read it.
> 
> That being said, I hope you enjoy the angst and romance to come, as well as cool pig hybrid Technoblade who makes to many Greek Myth references to count. <3

Crimson roses stand out along the dim, purple night sky, swaying gently in the winds of France. The sweet smell of river water and freshly picked berries waft around the courtyard of this lovely castle. Regal in its design, tall as the Eiffel.  Inside its walls held a family of servants and one prince. Handsome, he was, as one servant took a brush-covered in sweet-smelling oil makeup, gently brushing the blood-red over his lips. Another brushed back his pink hair, hiding it under a powdered wig. The Prince stared at himself with disdain in his mirror, maroon eyes snapping to glare at his servants each time they did a single thing wrong.   
  
He sneered as his hair was pulled, wishing to slap whoever dared in the face and yell at them to leave him be--but tonight was important. Important to him, his father. A ball, to find a lowly wife, in which he could take her hand in marriage and finally take his place as King ...Truly, with this, he should have everything his heart desired. So why did he feel so empty, staring at himself with hate as his crown was set on his head, red velvet cape adorned with white, luscious fur set around his shoulders as he was guided to stand from his chair.

He constantly taxed his village to fill his castle with beauty and expense. He had women at his fingertips and he never had to do a thing with his several servants. He should be happy, relaxed. Though even with his spoils beyond belief, he longed for something more. Something more than this, something...real.

“Master, it’s time.” He heard the Brit’s voice from behind him, and he sighed, tiredly. It was time, indeed. He stared at his reflection once more, wishing to break that mirror into shards. Though he stopped it all before it could begin, those intrusive thoughts and anger bubbling in his veins. Blood, they demanded. He didn’t listen, simply turning on his heels and heading out of the door, shoulders held high as if they weren’t being weighed down by the world as if he didn’t feel like Atlas stepping out into the ballroom.

The ballroom was beautiful, decorated with white and gold accents. Crystal and diamond chandeliers hung above the creme floor, beautiful gold accents spreading out to resemble flowers and vines. The walls had a great number of candelabras, perfectly lighting up the number of young women from all families who had come to fight, to dance, to beg for his hand in marriage. 

It practically disgusted him.

As he walked in he watched them flock around each other, whispering and bowing, fans spreading out with nimble, ugly fingers all unworthy of a ring. He scrunched his nose up like a pig in disgust, as he was led to the front of them all, sat on his throne. White and gold, with subtle pink designs that he had demanded, were placed in such a way only he could notice- for the color comforted him in ways these women never could.

That was when the music had started.

Piano echoed out through the ballroom, as all the women slowly curtseyed, all eyes on him. They all looked the same, truly. The same wigs, the same dress shape. Did they have no sense of style, no hope to stand out? What was sticking with the crowd going to get them? The only way they’d stick out is with that horrendous makeup…He sighed, resting his cheek on his hand, before slowly standing. He might as well dance.  He headed over to a lovely dark-skinned woman, with a prettier dress than the rest- pearls decorated her neck. He eyed them as he took her by her waist, pressing her against him with a hand sliding up to grab hers, and they danced. Circling the other women as they began to twirl, dancing alone.

It wasn’t long before he switched to a ginger woman- he could tell due to her barely-there eyebrows peeking out against her powdered wig. Her dress was shabby and dull, and he had to stop himself from glaring, taking her waist in his large hands.

“ _ Oh, how divine...glamour, music, and magic combined…” _

The lovely voice of one of his servants echoed out, far past the music. He was sure it was Wilbur, due to the accent, and the fact that he had the best voice among them all. Even him. He sighed as he listened, rolling his eyes as he switched to a raven-haired woman, who got far too handsy for his liking. 

“ _ See the maidens so anxious to shine…” _

That caused him to crack a smirk, switching partners with a tanned woman, dipping her. Of course, Wilbur would quite know what he was thinking- could see how hard and desperate these women were.

_ “Look for a sign that enhances chances, She'll be his special one…” _

He scoffed some, tangling his fingers with another woman. His special one? As if. He was only doing this to take his rightful place as king and show his father he could make sacrifices for power. How preposterous- special ones, soulmates- those only came in fairytales. He much preferred Greek Tragedy where the harsh reality set in.

_ “What a display! What a breathtaking, thrilling array!” _

He huffed as his hand was grabbed by some other woman, feeling as though he was a hound being dragged around predators like meat. He hated this. He felt dizzy, disgusted, watching the women circle him in horrible dance etiquette.

_ “Every prince, every dog has his day! And I'll sing with passion, gusto, fit to bust! Oh, not a care in the world!” _

Just as he let go of that woman, feeling faint as the same bloody faces blurred his vision, the same powered smell, and fake smiles tainted his sight- a harsh knock came from the rain covered window, leading to the courtyard.

Everyone stopped, as did the prince. He turned to stare at the door, watching a hulking figure pound on the expensive glass. Anger coursed through his veins, and before he could go to have the person arrested and reprimanded, the door flung open due to the harsh winds outside. He watched as leaves and rain flew in, blowing out many of his candelabras. Those would be an absolute  _ pain _ to relight- not as though he’d be the one doing it, but still.

He watched the hobbling figure stumble inside, bracing themselves on a walking stick, her figure covered in a black hood. As he turned to ask for a candle, one of his servants ran forward to hand it to him. He frowned deeply, taking it and stomping over to the hag. As everyone backed off, women now terrified and as disgusted as the prince was when he had seen all these ‘suitors’, the hag fell to her knees, far too weak to stand.

The prince's face morphed into such disgust, as he stopped in front of her. He watched as her shaky hand lifted, wrinkled, and withered from age. And in her hand, was a single pink rose, quite the same color as his hair. He stared at it, and such unbridled rage filled his veins. How dare she give him such a ‘gift.’ He laughed in her face, turning to laugh at the women as well, causing them to laugh back in fear and disgust for this hag. 

He turned back, grabbing the rose from her wretched fingers. He then looked back up at her, crimson eyes staring at her with the smallest of pupils. He then dropped it at her feet with such rage, wanting nothing but to crush it and her under his heeled shoe.

_ “...Do not be deceived by appearances, boy.” _

  
  


The light from the prince's candle blew out, as a beautiful and ethereal voice echoed around him.

“ _ For beauty...is found within.” _

The prince watched in horror as the old hags skin began to melt as though it was wax, revealing gold, shining light underneath, a face like no other, and two eyes like the sun that bore through his soul. He stumbled back, dropping the candle on the floor. He fell to his knees in complete shock as he watched her cloak fall off, hearing the women behind him scream and scramble, for they could not compare to this Enchantress's beauty. 

Her dress was like flames surrounding her starlike appearance. He felt enraptured by her, though his heart was still as empty as ever. She stared down at him with...pity, as he silently begged for forgiveness, on his knees in front of her. She could see him, stripped of his outer beauty- his wigs, makeup, expensive clothing. And she could see a heartless boy, a hungry pig chasing after that which was not needed. 

“... _ Beauty...is found within, little piggy.” _

A golden hand pressed against his head, and white-hot pain spread through his body. He could feel all that he had known being stripped from him- his power, wealth, status. His beauty. He was becoming a monster before this goddess’s eyes.

“ _ You have until the last petal falls on this blush rose, to find someone with enough love in their heart to love a monster like you- for all that you are, and all that you will become.” _

His heart lept in his throat, and a squeal- that of a swine- left his throat and echoed throughout the kingdom.

“ _ And if you cannot...you will be stuck in your truest form for all eternity, alone and hideous.” _

He felt his eyes roll into the back of his head, as his body changed with her magic,

“ _ I hope you can learn from your mistakes, prince, for they’re all counting on you.” _

And with that, it all went dark, as he went limp against the cold, fancy floor, rain and wind sweeping in through the door adjacent to him.


End file.
